Favorite Memory from our years at Highland High..

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my favorite memory was the fun I had in seminary across the street. In fact, I remember some pictures of our classes in 10th or 11th grade taken and would love some copies if anyone happens to be in a situation which they could share. Mine are gone gone gone.
Also, loved Mr. Nelson, history teacher which is interesting because I really didn't enjoy history at the time, but must of made a dent somewhere.
Very favorite classes were gym or physical education and each of your participation. Highland High warms my heart. Surely was happy to get out, however.

What are your memories of our days at Highland?

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My social life in high school was extremely painful, because I was not in the "in" group. So, I put my energy into academics and service organizations, like the newspaper staff. I've only attended one high school reunion, the 30th, and, surprisingly, it was a blast. Those social butterflies had all aged, balded and sagged, like the rest of us. And most of my feelings of inadequacy had evaporated with time. Looking forwared to the 50th!

I remember moments with neighborhood friends: like Judy Brown Nielson. We thought it highly intelligent to put her family's dirty dishes on some protective towels in my brother Billy's red "Flyer" wagon and cart them across the dead end street (kittycorner) to my house at 1642 Westminster to wash them in my mother's new dishwasher. I think we were in 8th grade. Judith and I still laugh about this and many other momemts. I remember the graciousness of KayDean K. Cahoon Chytrus's mother and the good talks we had on the way to school, walking barefoot with Judy, through the blizzards of snow, the pouring rain and the sunny blue skied wildflower days. Leslie Stewart H. K. Elliot was in driver's training with me the summer before 10th grade. Instant friends, she invited me to her home where her generous mother, Phylis, taught me to make tomato, onion, and zuchini aldente. Leslie gave me a sweater she had begun to knit, whole back was finished, and it was too small for her. I could bearly knit but she helped me get the right tension so my part would match what she had done. It was beautiful: Deep charcoal brown and grey through all the values to light mushroom in tiny baby weight yarn. Sue Hunter Gibbons woke me up early to go to breakfast before the entrance exams at the U of U. She was watching out for me. I feel rich to have had such friends. I humbly hope for more great moments with anyone willing to take the time.